


Provenance (SEASON ONE, EPISODE NINETEEN)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon, Episode: s01e19 Provenance, F/M, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Da Winchestas must deal wit a gangbangin' fucked up spirit bound ta a oldschool crew portrait dat brangs misfortune n' dirtnap ta mah playas whoz ass buys dat shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

Da camera pans over a oldschool paintin of a oldschool crew n' then back ta reveal a lil' couple up in formal attire up in they lounge room.

 **MAN  
** (adjustin tha frame) Okay, right bout there.

 **WOMAN  
** (Giggling) I can't believe we straight-up looted dis thang.

 **MAN  
** Therez a reason charitizzle auctions have a open bar.

They stare at it fo' a moment.

 **WOMAN  
** Don't you think...I don't give a fuck, itz kinda creepy?

 **MAN  
** (fondlin her back n' pullin down tha zip of her dress) Its all gravy, I be bout ta keep you safe.

 **WOMAN  
** Maybe you tha one I oughta be scared of?

They kiss.

 **WOMAN  
** Letz go upstairs.

 **MAN  
** Give me two minutes ta lock up.

Yo, she kisses his ass lingeringly.

 **MAN  
** Give me one minute.

Dude pinches her behind, her big-ass booty squeals n' runs upstairs. Da eyez of tha daddy up in tha paintin follow her, then his head turns ta peep tha playa lock up. Da playa looks round as if dat schmoooove muthafucka hears a noise, then continues ta key tha securitizzle code in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

Camera show Point of View of one of mah thugs movin slowly up tha stairs.

 **WOMAN  
** (From upstairs) If you don't hurry up I'ma start without you, nahmean biiiatch?

A shadow appears up in tha bedroom doorway, her big-ass booty smilez fo' realz. A gust of wind blows up her bedside candle.

Da playa moves up tha stairs, unfuckin wit his cold-ass trousers yo. Dude entas tha darkened room. 

 **MAN  
** Muthafucka, git tha lights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I can't peep a thang.

Dude throws his hoodie aside n' kneels on tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! There be a squishin noise.

 **MAN  
** Yo ass spill something?

Dude leans ta turn on tha bedside lamp yo. His hand is drippin wit blood.

 **MAN  
** Ann?

Yo, her ass is lyin on tha bed covered up in blood, eyes open n' staring.

 **MAN  
** Ann, biatch? ANN!!

Dude falls backwardz onto tha floor, freakin up fo' realz. A shadow appears over his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude turns ta look n' begins screaming.


	2. ACT ONE

INTERIOR. BAR.

DEAN n' a lil' biatch lean close together all up in tha bar.

 **WOMAN  
** Seven, Four, Two Zero.

 **DEAN  
** (Keyin tha fuck into his thugged-out lil' phone) Seven, Four, Two, Zero fo' realz. All right, you up in there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Perfect. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So is dat Brandy wit a 'y' or a 'i'?

SAM sits at a table strewn wit papers yo. Dude gestures ta DEAN, whoz ass gives his ass a 'wait' gesture as he laughs at suttin' tha biatch whispers. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM gestures again n' again n' again n' DEANz smile drops.

 **DEAN**  
All right, listen, I gotta go yo. Hold dat thought, I be bout ta be right back, aiiight?

Dude approaches SAM, holdin two brews.

 **SAM**  
All right, I be thinkin we gots something.

 **DEAN**  
(Glancin back all up in tha bar) Oh yeah, me like a muthafucka. I be thinkin we need ta take a lil shore leave, just a lil bit. What do you think, huh, biatch? I be soopa-doopa up in tha door wit dis one.

 **SAM**  
So what tha fuck is we todizzle Dean, biatch? I mean, is we rock stars, is we army rangers?

 **DEAN**  
(Grinning) Realitizzle TV scouts, lookin fo' playas wit special game. I mean hey, it aint dat far off right, biatch? By tha way, she gots a gangbangin' playa over there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?

 **SAM**  
Dean, no props, I can git mah own dates.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah you can but you don't.

 **SAM**  
What tha fuck iz dat supposed ta mean?

 **DEAN**  
Nothing. What you got?

 **SAM**  
Mark n' Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York was both found chillin wit tha fishes up in they own home, all dem minutes ago. Throats was slit. There was no prints, no cappin' weapons, all...

DEAN is distracted, continuin ta hit up dem hoes up in tha bar.

 **SAM**  
Dean!.... No prints, no cappin' weapons, all doors n' window locked from tha inside. 

 **DEAN**  
(drankin his brew) Could just be a garden variety cappin' you know, not our department.

 **SAM**  
No. Dad say different.

 **DEAN**  
What do you mean?

 **SAM**  
(pointin at map) Dad noted three murdaz up in tha same area of upstate New York. First one here up in 1912, second one right here up in 1945, n' tha third up in 1970, tha same M.O. as tha Telescas. Their throats was slit, doors was locked from tha inside. Now so much time had passed between murdaz dat no muthafucka checked tha pattern, except Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude kept his wild lil' fuckin eyes peeled fo' another one. 

 **DEAN**  
And now we gots one fo' realz. All right, I be wit ya. It aint nuthin but worth checkin out. We can't pick dis up til first thang though right?

 **SAM**  
Yeah.

 **Dean**  
(Headin back ta tha bar) Good.

 **SAM**  
Dean...

 **DEAN**  
Ladies...did you miss me son?

 **BRANDY  
** Well yeah.

 **DEAN**  
I be just kidding. Listen, I talked ta mah baller, n' it is lookin good.

 **BRANDY  
** Great. Cool.

SAM sniggers. 

.........................

EXTERIOR. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET. EARLY MORNING.

DEAN chills slouched up in tha passenger seat of tha Impala, sunglasses on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM strutts round tha car, leans up in n' honks tha horn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN jumps a gangbangin' foot. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sits up in tha drivers seat, laughing.

 **DEAN**  
(adjustin his sunglasses n' mumbling) Man, dat is so not cool.

 **SAM**  
I just swept tha Telescas wit EMF. It aint nuthin but clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And last night, while you were....well...out...

 **DEAN**  
(smirking) Dope times.

 **SAM**  
I checked tha history of tha house. Nothang strange bout tha Telescas. 

 **DEAN**  
All right, so if it aint tha playas n' it aint tha house, then maybe itz tha contents, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Cursed object or something.

 **SAM**  
Da doggy den is clean.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah I know, you holla'd all dis bullshit.  
  
**SAM**  
Fuck dat shit, I mean itz empty. No furniture, nothing. 

 **DEAN**  
Wherez all they stuff?

...............................

EXTERIOR. DAY. CAR PARK  
  
Da camera pans across a line of high-rollin' cars, Includin one wit tha number plate "Da Krip" n' endin on a thugged-out dust covered Impala. Well shiiiit, it pans up ta show upper class playas mingling. Classical violin noize plays. 

INTERIOR fo' realz. AUCTION HOUSE.

SAM n' DEAN wander around, lookin outta place up in they casual, rough threadz. DEAN takes finger chicken from a tray. One playa especially watches dem pass then excuses his dirty ass from his companion n' moves toward dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **DEAN**  
Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale fo' Wasps if you ask mah dirty ass. 

DEAN takes mo' chicken from a tray on a table as tha playa moves up behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **MAN  
** Can I help you gentlemen?

DEAN looks his ass up n' down n' then puts mo' chicken up in his crazy-ass grill.

 **DEAN**  
(Puttin on a posh voice) I'd like some champagne please.

 **SAM**  
(Sharply ta Dean) Dat punk not a waiter.

DEAN cocks a eyebrow. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM holdz up his hand ta tha man.

 **SAM**  
I be Sam Connors. 

Da Man just looks at him, not moving. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM moves tha hand dat schmoooove muthafucka holdin up ta point at DEAN.

 **SAM**  
Thatz mah brutha Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. We art dealers, wit Connors Limited.

 **MAN  
** Yo ass fo'sho fo' realz. Are...art dealers.

 **SAM**  
Thatz right.

 **MAN  
** I be Daniel Blake, dis is mah auction house. Now gentlemen dis be a private showing, n' I don't remember seein you on tha hommie list.

 **DEAN**  
We there chuckles, you just need ta take another look.

A waita goes past wit dranks on a tray.

 **DEAN**  
(Swipin a glass) Oh. Finally.

DEAN turns back ta BLAKE, sniffs tha glass, raises his wild lil' fuckin eyebrows then turns n' strutts away. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM hastily bigs up, blastin DEAN dirty looks. 

 **SAM**  
(To Blake) Cheers.

SAM n' DEAN ceck up tha shit fo' auction n' is drawn ta tha paintin of tha crew.

 **WOMAN  
** I fine example of Gangsta Primitizzle wouldn't you say?

SAM n' DEAN turn ta peep a sleek, classy, mad phat lookin lil' biatch up in a funky-ass black dress comin down a spiral staircase. They both stare at her as dat dunkadelic hoe turns her back while takin tha final part of tha stairs. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam turns back ta peep tha paintin again n' again n' again n' DEAN, oogling, slaps SAM on tha back n' continues staring.

 **SAM**  
Well I'd say itz mo' Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted ta peep if I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **WOMAN  
** Guilty fo' realz. And clumsy. I apologize. I be Sarah Blake.

 **SAM**  
I be Sam. This is my....brother, Dean.

DEAN continues ta shiznit his wild lil' grill from passin trays.

 **SARAH**  
Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Can we git you some mo' mini-quiche?

 **DEAN**  
(Chewing) I be good, props. 

 **SARAH**  
(To Sam) So, can I help you wit something?

 **SAM**  
Yeah, actually. What can you tell our asses bout tha Telesca estate?

 **SARAH**  
Da whole thangz pretty grisly if you ask me, pushin yo' thangs dis soon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But Dadz right bout one thang, sensationalizzle brangs up tha crowds. Even tha rich ones.

 **SAM**  
Is it possible ta peep tha provenances?

 **BLAKE**  
(Comin up behind) I be afraid there aint no damn chizzle of all dis bullshit.

 **SAM**  
Why not?

 **BLAKE**  
Yo ass aint on tha hommie list fo' realz. And I be thinkin itz time ta muthafuckin bounce. 

 **DEAN**  
(Puttin on his thugged-out lil' posh voice again) Well our phat asses don't gotta be holla'd at twice.

 **BLAKE**  
Apparently you do.

 **SAM**  
Okay. It aint nuthin but all right. Us dudes don't want any shit. We bout ta go.

DEAN raises his wild lil' fuckin eyebrows n' strutts off. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' SARAH exchange a long-ass look before he bigs up.

 **SARAH**  
Dad dat was just rude.

..................................

EXTERIOR. MOTEL.

SAM n' DEAN approach a room.

 **DEAN**  
Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?

 **SAM**  
Art history course. It aint nuthin but phat fo' meetin hoes.

 **DEAN**  
(unlockin tha door) It aint nuthin but like I don't even know you, biatch.

They enta tha room, tha camera stays on tha back of tha door as it closes. Da do not disturb door hanger be a silver outline of Jizzy Travolta from Saturdizzle Night Fever n' shit. Disco noize accompanies tha camera as it pans across a straight-up over tha top retro 70s disco fantasy room. Da thugs look from one side of tha room ta tha other n' pause. 

 **SAM n' DEAN  
** (Together) Huh. 

They move tha fuck into tha room, dumpin they bags.

 **DEAN**  
What was...providence?

 **SAM**  
Prov-e-nance. It aint nuthin but a cold-ass lil certificate of origin, like a funky-ass biography. Yo ass know we can use dem ta check tha history of tha pieces, peep if any of dem gotz a gangbangin' freaky past. 

 **DEAN**  
Huh. Well, our asses aint gettin anythang outta chucklez yo, but Sarah...

DEAN snaps his wild lil' fingers at SAM, smirking.

 **SAM**  
(Smirkin back) Yeah, maybe you can git her ta write all dat shiznit down on a cold-ass lil cocktail napkin.

 **DEAN**  
(Laughing) Not mah dirty ass.  
  
**SAM**  
No no no, pick ups is yo' thang Dean.

 **DEAN**  
It wasn't mah booty dat biiiiatch was checkin out.

They exchange a look.

 **SAM**  
In other lyrics, you want me ta use her ta git shiznit.

 **DEAN**  
Sometimes you gotta take one fo' tha crew. Call her n' shit. 

..................................

INTERIOR. UPMARKET RESTAURANT.

SAM n' SARAH sit at a table.

 **SAM**  
Sick place.

 **SARAH**  
Yeah.

There be a long-ass awkward pause. 

 **SARAH**  
Glad you called. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Surprised yo, but glad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM**  
Yeah?

 **SARAH**  
Although you seemed ta git a hard time gettin up tha lyrics "Would you like ta have dinner". 

 **SAM**  
Ahh...yeah. I aint straight-up been on a thugged-out date up in a while.

 **SARAH**  
Yo, wuz crackalackin', biatch? Yo ass is smokin tha club.

 **SAM**  
(Surprised) Yo ass is kiddin mah dirty ass.

 **WAITER  
** Here we are. Da Cristal list.

SAM looks straight-up uncomfortable, flippin pages randomly.

 **SARAH**  
(To tha waiter) I don't give a fuck bout Romeo here but I be bout ta gotz a funky-ass brew.

 **WAITER  
** (to SAM) And yo slick ass?

 **SAM**  
(Smiling) Make dat two.

.................................

LATER.

 **SAM**  
So you studied art up in school huh?

 **SARAH**  
It aint nuthin but true. I was a artist fo' realz. A shitty shitty artist fo' realz. And thatz why I be up in tha auction bidnizz fo' realz. And you was pre-law?

 **SAM**  
Yeah.

 **SARAH**  
But you didn't git all up in law school yo. How tha fuck come, biatch? 

 **SAM**  
Ahh, thatz a straight-up straight-up long rap fo' another time.

 **SARAH**  
Yo ass aint like any art deala I've eva met.

They exchange another long look.

 **SAM**    
So, what tha fuck did you mean when you holla'd you aint been on a thugged-out date up in a while. Tryin ta make me feel like I aint such a weak-ass muthafucka?

 **SARAH**  
I be shizzle you nuff thangs Sam. I be also shizzle weak-ass muthafucka aint one of dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

Mo' long looks exchanged.

 **SARAH**  
(Slowly) Dat shiznit was mah Mom. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch took a dirt nap on some year ago. Straight-Up unexpected. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Well shiiiit, it straight-up threw mah dirty ass. I went tha fuck into dis shell fo' realz. A sick warm safe shell. But lately I've been thinking. It aint nuthin but not what tha fuck dat biiiiatch would have wanted fo' mah dirty ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So....

Mo' long looks.

 **SARAH**  
So what tha fuck bout yo slick ass, biatch? Yo ass be a reasonably bangin muthafucka.

 **SAM**  
(laughing, embarrassed) Reasonably, biatch? 

 **SARAH**  
Why aint you been up n' about?

SAM thinks, looks at her, loses his smile, be thinkin some more.

 **SARAH**  
(Watchin him) Another long rap fo' another time.

SAM nodz slowly.

................................

INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM.

DEAN is sharpenin his blade on a whetstone, SAM is lookin all up in some papers.

 **DEAN**  
So she just handed tha providences over ta you, biatch.

 **SAM**  
Provenances.

 **DEAN**  
(Haltingly) Provenances?

 **SAM**  
Yes yes y'all. Us thugs went back ta her place, I gots a cold-ass lil copy of tha papers...

 **DEAN**  
And?

 **SAM**  
And nothing. Thatz dat shit. I left.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass didn't gotta con her or do any...special favors or anythang like that?

 **SAM**  
Dean, would you git yo' mind outta tha gutter, please?

 **DEAN**  
(Laughing) Yo ass know when dis whole thangz done, we could stick round fo' a lil bit.

 **SAM**  
Why?

 **DEAN**  
So you could take her up again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but obvious you tha fuck into her, even I could peep all dis bullshit.

 **SAM**  
Yo, I be thinkin I've gots suttin' here.

DEAN comes over, SAM handz his ass tha papers. 

 **DEAN**  
(Reading) "Portrait of Isaiah Merchantz crew, painted 1910."

 **SAM**  
Now compare tha namez of tha ballaz wit Dadz journal.

 **DEAN**  
(checkin against tha journal) First purchased up in 1912, Peta Simms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Peta Simms murdered 1912. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Same thang up in 1945. Oh, same thang up in 1970.

 **SAM**  
Then stored, until dat shiznit was donated ta a cold-ass lil charitizzle auction last month. Where tha Telescas looted dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So what tha fuck do you think, itz hustled, biatch? or cursed?

 **DEAN**  
(Gettin up) Either way, itz toast.

.............................

EXTERIOR fo' realz. AUCTION HOUSE. NIGHT.

Heavy rock noize skits as DEAN leaps n' easily scalez tha metas high metal gates n' sprints tha fuck into tha mist.

 **DEAN**  
Come on!

SAM bigs up.

SAM, bustin gloves, disarms tha securitizzle alarm.

 **SAM**  
Go ahead.

DEAN, also wit gloves, picks tha lock.

They shine they flashlights round inside, quickly searchin fo' tha painting. DEAN spies it upstairs n' they sprint up tha spiral staircase yo. Holdin his wild lil' flashlight up in his crazy-ass grill, DEAN flicks his switchblade n' cuts tha paintin from its frame. They're up in n' up within a cold-ass lil couple minutes. Da whole scene screams expertise n' nuff muthafuckin yearz of breakin n' entering. 

.............................

EXTERIOR. DIRT ROAD.

Da paintin lies up in tha dirt, SAM holdin tha flashlight as DEAN readies tha matches. 

 **DEAN**  
Ugly ass thang. If you ask me our phat asses bustin tha art ghetto a gangbangin' favor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

Dude drops tha match n' tha paintin ignites fo' realz. As it burns tha camera switches back ta tha auction doggy den n' we peep tha paintin reformin up in tha frame. 


	3. ACT TWO

INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM.

 **DEAN  
** (Rushin up in from tha bathroom) We gots a problem -- I can't find mah wallet.

 **SAM  
** (packin his fuckin lil' duffel) How tha fuck is dat mah problem?

 **DEAN  
** 'Cause I be thinkin I dropped it up in tha warehouse last night.

 **SAM  
** (Horrified) Yo ass is kidding, right?

 **DEAN  
** No. It aint nuthin but gots mah prints, mah ID, well mah fake ID anyway. We gotta git it before one of mah thugs findz dat shit. Come on.

.................................

INTERIOR fo' realz. AUCTION HOUSE.

SAM n' DEAN hurry around, lookin all over dis biiiatch.

 **SAM  
** (Frustrated) How tha fuck do you lose yo' wallet, Dean?

DEAN throws his handz up in tha air n' keeps looking.

SARAH strutts up in n' sees dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **SARAH  
** (Smiling) Yo muthafuckas!

They both spin around, then try n' act cool. 

 **SAM  
** Sarah! Hey.

 **SARAH  
** What is you bustin here?

 **SAM  
** Ahh, we.... we is leavin hood and, you know, we came ta say peace out.

 **DEAN  
** (Strollin over) What is you poppin' off bout Sam, we stickin round fo' at least another dizzle or two.

SAM looks at DEAN, confused. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** (Gettin his wallet outta his thugged-out lil' pocket n' lookin meaningfully at Sam) Oh, Sam. By tha way. I'ma go ahead n' hit you wit dat $20 I owe you, biatch. (to Sarah) I always forget, you know.

SAM looks at him, disbelieving. 

 **DEAN  
** (Holdin up tha chedda, smiling) There you go.

SAM snatches tha chedda from DEAN, glarin at his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** (To Sarah) Well I be bout ta leave you two wild-ass lil playas alone, I gotta go do something...somewhere.

DEAN leaves doggystyle. 

 **SAM  
** (Awkwardly) So...

 **SARAH  
** I had a phat time last night.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, yeah. I did like a muthafucka.

 **SARAH  
** Maybe we should do it again n' again n' again sometime.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know. I'd ludd to, I straight-up would yo, but Dean, da thug was just screwin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! We straight-up is takin off todizzle.

 **SARAH  
** Oh. Oh. Ah thatz too bad.

 **SAM  
** (Seein tha paintin bein carried past) OH MY GOD!

 **SARAH  
** (Jumpin n' turnin ta look) What?

 **SAM  
** The....that painting....looks so phat dawwwg!

 **SARAH  
** If you can call dat monstrositizzle good, then...yeah, I guess.

 **SAM  
** So...what do you know bout dat painting?

 **SARAH  
** Not much -- just dat it creeps me out. We sold it ta tha Telescas at a cold-ass lil charitizzle auction tha night they was murdered.

 **SAM  
** (raisin his voice) Yeah, n' now you just goin ta push it again?

 **SARAH  
** As much as mah Dad wants to, no, I won't let his muthafuckin ass. I be thinkin it'd be up in shitty taste.

 **SAM  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Yeah. Yo ass know what, biatch? Don't. Don't. Make shizzle you don't, aiiight?

 **SARAH  
** Why, biatch? Don't tell me you horny bout that?

 **SAM  
** (Flustered n' backin up) No. Fuck dat shit, God, no. Not up in buyin it, no. Yo ass know what, I gotta go, I gotta take care of something. But umm, I'ma call you back...I'ma call you, I be bout ta peep you later.

 **SARAH  
** Wait, so you is...not leavin tonight?

 **SAM  
** No-o-o, I guess not. I be bout ta peep ya.

 **SARAH  
** (lookin afta him, confused). O...kay.

....................

INTERIOR. IMPALA. 

 **SAM  
** I don't understand, Dean, we burned tha damn thang.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, fuck you Captain Obvious fo' realz. All right, our laid-back asses just need ta git into another way ta git rid of it fo' realz. Any ideas?

 **SAM  
** Okay, all right. Well, um, up in almost all tha lore bout hustled paintings itz always tha paintingz subject dat haunts 'em.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So our laid-back asses just need ta git into every last muthafuckin thang there is ta know bout dat creepy-ass crew n' dat creepy-ass painting. What was they names again?  
  
.......................

INTERIOR. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SECOND HAND BOOK SHOP.

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Yo ass holla'd tha Isaiah Merchant crew right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah thatz right.

DEAN approaches, smilin n' flickin all up in a oldschool book wit picturez of guns.

 **PROPRIETOR  
** (Layin a big-ass book of newspaper clippings tha table) I dug up every last muthafuckin scrap of local history I could find. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! So is you thugs crime buffs?

 **DEAN  
** Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Well...

Dude holdz up a newspaper article. Da lead rap on tha front page is "New Titanic Sinks, 1304 Muthafuckas Go To Watery Graves: Only 866 saved from 2,170 Aboard Liner Which Collides With Iceberg. Disasta Proves To Be tha Top Billin up in Marine History of tha World." (See other SPN Titanic reference up in tha trivia section of dis episode) 

Dude points at a side article. Well shiiiit, it readz 'Father Slaughtas Family, Kills Himself'.

 **DEAN  
** Yes yes y'all. Yeah, dat soundz bout right.

 **SAM  
** Da whole crew was capped?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** It seems dis Isaiah, da perved-out muthafucka slits his kids' throats, then his hoe, then his dirty ass. Now da thug was a funky-ass barber by trade. Used a straight razor.

 **SAM  
** Why'd da ruffneck do it?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Letz look fo' realz. Ahh...(begins reading) "Muthafuckas whoz ass knew his ass describe Isaiah as havin a stern n' harsh temperament. Controlled his crew wit a iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter...."

Dude skims on...

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Yeah yeah yeah..."There was whispers dat tha hoe was gonna take tha lil playas n' muthafuckin bounce." Which of course you know up in dat dizzle n' age, um ....so instead, oldschool playa Isaiah...well he gave dem all a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shave.

Dude draws his hand across his cold-ass throat wit appropriate noises, laughing. DEAN joins up in but stops when SAM gives his ass biiiatchface.

 **DEAN  
** Do it say what tha fuck happened ta tha bodies?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Just dat they was all cremated.

 **SAM  
** Anythang else?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Yeah fo' realz. Actually I found a picture of tha crew. It aint nuthin but right here... somewhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Right -- here it is.

It aint nuthin but tha picture of tha painting.

 **SAM  
** Yo, could we git a cold-ass lil copy of dis please?

 **PROPRIETOR  
** Sure.

...........................

INTERIOR fo' realz. AUCTION HOUSE.

BLAKE watches as tha paintin is packed tha fuck into a movin crate.

 **SARAH  
** (Approaching) Dad hommie! Yo ass promised you wouldn't push dat painting.

 **BLAKE  
** I know dopeie yo, but Evelynz offered a persuasive amount of scrilla.

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass is shameless, you know that?

 **BLAKE**  
(Smilin at her) For dat sort of scrilla I can afford ta be.  
  
..............................

INTERIOR MOTEL ROOM.

SAM n' DEAN sit all up in tha table.

 **SAM  
** I be spittin some lyrics ta you dude, I be shizzle of dat shit. Da paintin all up in tha auction house, Dad is lookin down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Paintin here, Dadz lookin out. Da paintin has chizzled, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** All right, so you be thinkin dat Daddy dearest is trapped up in tha paintin n' is handin up Columbian necktizzles like da ruffneck did wit his crew?

 **SAM  
** Well yeah, it seems like dat shit. But if his bones is already dusted then how tha fuck is we gonna stop him?

 **DEAN  
** All right, well, if Isaiahz posizzle chizzled then maybe some other thangs up in tha paintin chizzled as well. Yo ass know it could give our asses some clues.

 **SAM  
** What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?

 **DEAN  
** (Givin SAM a straight-up blank look) I don't....know. uhh...I be still waitin fo' tha porno on dat one fo' realz. Anyway, we gotta git back up in n' peep dat painting.

DEAN rises n' moves across ta tha bed, throwin his dirty ass onto his back n' crossin his thugged-out arms.

 **DEAN  
** Which be a phat thang cause you can git some mo' time ta crush on yo' hoe.

 **SAM  
** Dude. Enough already.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Ever since we gots here, you been tryin ta pimp me up ta Sarah. Just back off, all right?

 **DEAN  
** Well, you like her don't yo slick ass, biatch? 

SAM raises his thugged-out arms n' eyes ta tha ceiling.

 **DEAN  
** All right, you like her, she likes you, you both consentin adults... 

 **SAM  
** (Frustrated, risin voice) Whatz tha point, Dean, biatch? We bout ta just muthafuckin bounce. We always muthafuckin bounce.

 **DEAN  
** Well I aint poppin' off bout marriage, Sam. 

 **SAM  
** (Agitated) Yo ass know, I don't git dat shit. What do you care if I hook up?

 **DEAN  
** (Calmly) Cause then maybe you wouldn't be all kindsa cranky all tha time.

SAM stares at him, then huffs up a funky-ass breath n' looks away.

 **DEAN  
** (Sittin up on tha bed) Yo ass know, seriously Sam, dis aint bout just hookin up, aiiight, biatch? I mean, I, I be thinkin dat dis Sarah hoe could be phat fo' you, biatch. 

SAM sighs n' scratches his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN watches closely.

 **DEAN  
** (Softly) And... I don't mean any disrespect but I be shizzle dis be bout Jessica, right, biatch? Now I don't give a fuck what tha fuck itz like ta lose some muthafucka like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all.... but... I would be thinkin dat dat biiiiatch would want you ta be horny.

SAM is on tha down-low n' listenin now, tears up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes.

 **DEAN  
** Dogg forbid have funk once up in a while. Wouldn't she?

 **SAM**  
(softly) Yeah I know dat biiiiatch would.

SAM gives a half smile, then sighs heavily.

 **SAM  
** Yeah you right. Part of dis be bout Jessica. But not tha main part.

 **DEAN  
** Whatz it about?

SAM refuses ta answer.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah all right. (Dude lies back again n' again n' again n' crosses his thugged-out arms) Well we still gotta peep dat painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so...

SAM picks up tha phone, clearin his cold-ass throat. DEAN shakes his head n' closes his wild lil' fuckin eyes, settlin in.

 **SAM  
** (Awkwardly) Sarah, hey, itz Sam. (pause) Yo, hi. (pause) Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Good, yeah. Umm. What bout yo slick ass?

DEAN opens one eye slightly, watchin his brother.

 **SAM  
** (Repeatin his dirty ass) Yeah good, good, straight-up good.

 **DEAN  
** (Whispers across tha room) Smooth...

 **SAM  
** So, ah, so listen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Me n' mah brother, were...uh...thankin dat maybe we'd like ta come back up in n' peep tha paintin again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I ... 

DEAN once mo' shakes his head n' closes his wild lil' fuckin eyes.

 **SAM  
** I be thinkin maybe we is horny bout buyin dat shit. (pause) What!?

At SAM'S tone DEAN snaps ta attention.

 **SAM  
** (Standin up) Who'd you push it to?

DEAN rises up, listenin closely.

 **SAM**  
(Urgently) Sarah I need a address n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.  
  
..................................

INTERIOR. MANSION.

Evelyn, from tha auction doggy den all up in tha start of tha episode, sits readin up in her lounge. Da paintin is on tha wall above tha fireplace. Isaiah turns his head, watchin her n' shit. Evelyn puts down her book n' places her glasses on top of it before pickin up her cup of tea. In her glasses we peep a reflection of a straight razor slidin past. Evelyn hears a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shufflin noise n' looks up, gaspin up in horror.


	4. ACT THREE

EXTERIOR. EVELYN'S HOUSE.

Da Impala roars up n' tha thugs jump out. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sarah appears from tha hoopty waitin up in tha driveway.

 **SARAH  
** Sam whatz happening.

 **SAM  
** (runnin past her) I holla'd at you, you shouldn't have come.

DEAN joins SAM n' they run up tha stairs ta tha front porch. DEAN starts bangin on tha door.

 **DEAN  
** Yo muthafucka, mah playas home?

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass holla'd Evelyn might be up in danger, what tha fuck sort of danger?

 **DEAN  
** I can't knock dis sucker down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I gotta pick dat shit.

DEAN starts ta pick tha lock as SAM bangs on tha windows, which is covered wit metal securitizzle bars.

 **SARAH  
** What is you muthafuckas, burglars?

 **SAM  
** I wish dat shiznit was dat simple. Look you straight-up should wait up in tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. It aint nuthin but fo' yo' own good.

DEAN gets tha door open n' SAM quickly bigs up his ass inside.

 **SARAH  
** Da hell I will. Evelynz a gangbangin' playa.

SARAH runs up in afta dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **SARAH  
** Evelyn?

 **DEAN  
** Evelyn.

Da enta tha lounge, Evelyn sits half turned away from dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Da paintin has chizzled, Isaiah now looks at his fuckin lil' daughta rather than straight ahead.

 **SARAH  
** Evelyn, biatch? It aint nuthin but Sarah Blake....Is you all right?

SARAH reaches ta bust a nut on Evelynz shoulder.

 **SAM  
** (Urgently) Sarah don't. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sarah!

Evelynss head tips back, exposin dat her slashed throat. Sarah screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. 

 **SARAH  
** Oh mah Dogg. Oh My fuckin God!!

SAM puts his thugged-out arm round her n' shepherdz her outta tha room.

................................

INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM.

DEAN sits all up in tha bar wit tha laptop, SAM paces. There be a knock on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM opens it n' SARAH storms past his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Hey. Y'all right?

 **SARAH  
** Fuck dat shit, actually, I just lied ta tha cops n' holla'd at dem I went ta Evelyn's, alone, n' found her like all dis bullshit.

DEAN smirks while SAM looks relieved.

 **SAM  
** Nuff props, biatch.

 **SARAH  
** Don't give props ta me, I be bout ta booty-call dem right back if you don't tell me what tha fuck tha hellz goin on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Whoz cappin' these people?

SAM looks at DEAN, whoz ass raises his wild lil' fuckin eyebrows. 

 **SAM  
** (To Sarah) What.

 **SARAH  
** What?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but not 'who'. It aint nuthin but 'what' is cappin' dem people.

SARAH looks at SAM like he insane. 

 **SAM  
** (Sighing) Sarah, you saw dat paintin move.

 **SARAH  
** (Agitated) No...no I was...I was seein thangs. It aint nuthin but impossible.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah well, welcome ta our ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Sarah, I know dis soundz crazy...but we be thinkin dat that paintin is hustled.

 **SARAH  
** (Sniggerin but wit tears up in her eyes) Yo ass is clownin.

She looks from one ta tha other of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. They both just stare at her muthafuckin ass.

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass aint clownin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. God, tha muthafuckas I go up with.

 **SAM  
** Sarah, be thinkin bout dat shit. Evelyn, tha Telesca's, they both had tha paintin fo' realz. And there done been others before dis shit. Wherever dis thang goes playas take a thugged-out dirt nap fo' realz. And our laid-back asses just tryin ta stop it fo' realz. And thatz tha real deal.

 **SARAH  
** (Takin a thugged-out deep breath) Then I guess you'd betta show mah dirty ass. I be comin wit you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sarah no, you should just bounce back ta tha doggy den. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This shiznit can git fucked up and...and I don't want you ta git hurt.

 **SARAH  
** Look, you muthafuckas is probably crazy yo, but if you right bout this, biatch? Well me n' mah Dad sold dat paintin dat mighta gots these playas capped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Look I aint sayin I aint scared cuz I be scared as a muthafucka but...I aint goin ta run n' hide either.

SARAH strides ta tha door.

 **SARAH  
** (Turnin back) So is we goin or what?

She strutts out. 

 **DEAN  
** Sam?

SAM looks across ta where DEAN is chillin. DEAN points up tha door afta SARAH.

 **DEAN  
** Marry dat girl.

......................

EXTERIOR. EVELYN'S HOUSE. DAY

SAM is pickin tha lock.

 **SARAH  
** Ahhh... aint dis a cold-ass lil crime scene?

 **DEAN  
** You've already lied ta tha cops. Whatz another infraction?

Once inside SAM lifts tha paintin down from tha wall n' they examine dat shit.

 **SARAH  
** Aren't you worried dat it's...gonna bust a cap up in us?

 **SAM  
** Nah, it seems ta do its thang at night. I be thinkin we all right up in tha daylight.

 **DEAN  
** (Comparin tha picture up in tha book wit tha painting) Sam, check it out. Da razor, itz closed up in dis one but itz open up in dat one.

 **SARAH  
** What is you muthafuckas lookin for?

 **DEAN  
** Well if tha spiritz changin aspectz of tha paintin then itz bustin so fo' a reason.

 **SAM  
** Yo hey peep all dis bullshit. Da paintin up in tha painting. 

 **DEAN  
** Looks like a cold-ass lil crypt, or a mausoleum or something.

DEAN looks around, grabs a thick glass ashtray n' uses it as a magnifyin glass.

 **DEAN**  
(Readin tha name on tha Mausoleum) Merchant.  
  
.........................

EXTERIOR. GRAVEYARD.

SAM, DEAN n' SARAH strutt all up in tha graves.

 **DEAN  
** This is tha third boneyard we've checked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be thinkin dis pimp is jerkin our asses around.

 **SARAH  
** So dis is what tha fuck you muthafuckas do fo' a living?

 **SAM  
** Not exactly. Us dudes don't git paid.

 **SARAH  
** Well, Mazel tov.

 **DEAN  
** (Spyin tha mausoleum) Over there.

DEAN breaks tha lock n' they enter, pushin aside tha cobwebs. There be a fuckin shitload of name plates as well as four urns up in front of lil glass fronted boxes. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SARAH looks tha fuck into one of tha cases at a thugged-out doll.

 **SARAH  
** Okay, dat right there -- is tha creepiest thangs I've eva seen.

 **SAM  
** Dat shiznit was a... sort of tradizzle all up in tha time. Whenever a cold-ass lil lil pimp took a dirt nap sometimes they'd preserve tha kidz straight-up toy up in a glass case, put it next ta tha headstone or crypt.

(a wind blows in)

 **DEAN  
** Notice anythang strange here?

 **SARAH  
** Ah ... where do I start?

SAM sniggers, lookin at her n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, thatz not what tha fuck I mean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Look all up in tha urns.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. There is only four.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah Momma n' tha three kids. Daddy dearest aint here.

 **SAM  
** So where is he?

...............................

EXTERIOR. DAY. OUTSIDE OFFICE BUILDINGS.

SAM n' SARAH sit on a lil' small-ass wall, waiting.

 **SARAH  
** So what tha fuck exactly is yo' brutha bustin up in there?

 **SAM  
** Searchin county dirtnap certificates tryin ta smoke up what tha fuck happened ta Isaiahz body.

 **SARAH  
** How'd he even git up in tha door?

 **SAM  
** Lyin n' subterfuge mostly.

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass have a...uh....you have a eyelash on yo' right...no...uh...you know wha -- t

SARAH reaches yo, but has no clue where it is.

 **SAM  
** (laughing) Do you mind if I -- git it?

 **SARAH  
** No.

SAM reaches fo' it n' holdz it on his wild lil' finger.

 **SAM  
** Okay, I gots dat shit. Make a wish.

Laughing, SARAH do so, n' blows it away.

 **SARAH  
** Sam, can I ask you something?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, sure.

 **SARAH  
** I don't mean ta be forward yo, but a hoe could wait here forever n' shit. Is there something, here, between us, biatch? Or is I delusional?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass aint delusional.

 **SARAH  
** But there be a a funky-ass but coming.

 **SAM  
** But... I don't be thinkin dis would be a phat idea.

 **SARAH  
** Can I ask why?

 **SAM  
** 'Cause I wanna bust a nut on you, biatch.

 **SARAH  
** Wait. Yo ass lost mah dirty ass.

They both laugh.

 **SAM  
** Look, itz hard ta explain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Ah--It aint nuthin but just when playas is round mah crazy ass -- I don't give a fuck, they git hurt.

 **SARAH  
** What do you mean?

 **SAM  
** I mean like physically hurt. With what tha fuck me n' mah brutha do, it's.... (Sam breathes.) Sarah, I had a hoe yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin' fo' realz. And her dope ass died. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! And mah Momma took a dirt nap like a muthafucka. I don't give a fuck, itz like, itz like I be cursed or something. Like dirtnap just bigs up me around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Look, I aint scared of much yo, but if I let mah dirty ass have vibe fo' anybody... 

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass is scared they'd git hurt like a muthafucka. (Sam looks down.) Thatz straight-up dope fo' realz. And straight-up archaic.

 **SAM looks back up.  
** Sorry?

 **SARAH  
** Look I be a funky-ass big-ass hoe Sam, it aint yo' thang ta make decisions fo' mah dirty ass. Therez always a cold-ass lil chizzle of gettin hurt.

 **SAM  
** I aint poppin' off on some gangbangin' fucked up ass n' a tub of Haagen Dazs. I be poppin' off bout game n' dirtnap.

 **SARAH  
** And tomorrow I could git hit by a funky-ass bus. Thatz what tha fuck game is. Look, I know losin some muthafucka you ludd -- itz shitty. Yo ass shut yo ass off. Believe me, I know. But when you shut up pain, you shut up every last muthafuckin thang else like a muthafucka.

 **SAM  
** Sarah, you don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da pain dat I went through... I can't go all up in it again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I can't. 

 **DEAN  
** (Suddenly appearing) Am I interruptin something?

 **SAM  
** No.

 **SARAH  
** Not at all.

 **DEAN  
** (Lookin between them) Huh fo' realz. Apparently.

 **SAM  
** So, what'd you get?

 **DEAN  
** Paydirt. Apparently tha survivin relativez of tha Merchant crew was so ashamed of Isaiah dat they didn't want his ass interred wit tha rest of tha crew. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, they handed his ass over ta tha county, tha county gave his ass a pauperz funeral. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Economizzle style. Turns up da thug wasn't cremated; da thug was buried up in a pine box. 

 **SAM  
** So there be bones ta burn.

 **DEAN  
** There is bones ta burn.

 **SAM  
** Tell me you know where.

...........................

GRAVEYARD. NIGHT.

DEAN n' SAM dig; SARAH holdz a gangbangin' flashlight. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam crawls outta tha grave ta stand next ta Sarah. 

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass muthafuckas seem ta be uncomfortably laid back wit all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Well, ah, dis aint exactly tha straight-up original gangsta grave we've dug. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Still be thinkin I be a cold-ass lil catch?

Sarah laughs.

DEAN taps his shovel on suttin' hard.  
Think I've gots something.

DEAN cracks open tha coffin lid ta reveal a funky-ass body. 

...................................

DEAN pours tha salt, SAM tha kerosene. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sarah watches. 

 **DEAN  
** (Strikin a match) You've been a real pain up in tha ass Isaiah. Dope riddance. (Dude tosses tha match in.)

They all stand n' peep it burn.

......................  
  
EXTERIOR. EVELYN'S HOUSE.

Da Impala pulls up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam opens tha passenger door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** Keep tha motor hustlin. 

 **SARAH  
** I thought tha paintin was harmless now?

 **SAM  
** Betta safe than sorry bout dat bullshit. We gonna bury tha sucker n' shit. 

 **SARAH  
** (Gettin outta tha hoopty decisively) I'ma wit you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass sure?

 **SARAH  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** (Callin SAM back) Yo dawwwwg! hey hey. I be bout ta stay here, you go make yo' move.

SAM scoffs n' gets outta tha car.

 **DEAN  
** Sam. I be serious!

As SARAH n' SAM move up tha stairs DEAN turns on tha radio fo' realz. A ludd ballad is heard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Grimacing, SAM turns round n' gives DEAN a "wtf" gesture. DEAN cook up a 'what?' gesture, SAM motions his ass ta cut off tha beatz. Drop dis like itz hot! Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sighing, DEAN turns it off.

SAM n' SARAH move inside n' stop up in front of tha painting, lookin surprised.

 **SARAH  
** Ahhh, Sam, biatch? Yo ass is tha expert on all dis pimp stuff. Is dat paintin supposed ta be lookin like that, biatch? Wherez tha lil girl?

 **SAM  
** And tha razor.

They hear noises n' laughta n' look round up in time ta peep tha front door shuttin on dem wild-ass muthafuckas.


	5. ACT FOUR

DEAN runs up tha stairs n' starts shovin all up in tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Inside SAM also runs ta tha door n' yanks on dat shit. 

 **SAM  
** Dean! Yo dawwwwg! Is dat yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Sammy, you all right?

SAM pulls up his beeper n' calls DEAN.

 **DEAN  
** (Answering) Tell me you slammed tha front door.

 **SAM  
** Nope, it wasn't mah dirty ass. I be thinkin dat shiznit was tha lil girl.

 **DEAN  
** Girl, biatch? What girl?

 **SAM  
** Yeah she outta tha painting. I be thinkin it might've been her all along.

 **DEAN  
** Wasn't tha Dad lookin down at her, biatch? Maybe da thug was tryin ta warn us.

 **SAM  
** Yo hey hey, letz recap lata all right, biatch? Just git our asses outta here.

 **DEAN  
** Well I be tryin ta pick tha lock, tha door won't budge.

 **SAM  
** Well, knock it down.

 **DEAN  
** Okay smart-ass , let me just grab mah batterin ram.

 **SAM  
** Dean, tha damn thang is coming.

 **DEAN  
** Well you just gonna gotta hold it off until I figure suttin' out. Git some salt or iron.

 **SAM  
** (Grabbin SARAH'S hand) Come on.

SAM rummages all up in tha kitchen drawers, SARAH tha lounge cupboards.

 **SAM  
** What kind of doggy den aint gots salt, biatch? Low-sodium freaks. (To Sarah) Yo, d'you find any iron?

 **SARAH  
** No. Whatz it for?

 **SAM  
** Iron repels evil spirits but itz gotta be pure yo. Hurry. (Into tha phone) Uh, Dean, break me off a sec, don't go anywhere.

Outside DEAN leaves tha front door n' starts struttin tha front porch lookin fo' entrances.

 **SAM  
** (To Sarah) Look up in tha chair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sometimes tha seats.

Da lounge doors slam shut, wind blows papers everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Da hoe appears, draggin her doll along tha floor by one foot, a razor up in her other hand.

 **SARAH  
** Sam?

SAM backs up, keepin SARAH behind his muthafuckin ass.

Da pimp comes closer, movin up in a inhuman manner.

 **SARAH  
** That is just so wrong.

SAM backs tha fuck into tha fireside implements, grabs tha poker n' shit. Da girlz grill shivers n' she roars. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam swings all up in tha pimp. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch disappears. 

 **SARAH  
** Iron?

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** (On tha phone) Sammy, you aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, fo' now, nahmeean?

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck we gonna waste her?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a fuck, dat biiiiatch was already cremated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Therez not a god damn thang left ta burn.

 **DEAN  
** Then howz her big-ass booty still around?

 **SAM  
** There must be suttin' else.

 **SARAH  
** Sam wait. We used ta handle antique dolls all up in tha auction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Well thatz fascinatin Sarah but is it blingin right now?

 **SARAH  
** Well back then they use ta make tha dolls up in tha lil playas image, I mean every last muthafuckin thang, they would use tha kidz real hair.

 **SAM  
** Dean, Sarah holla'd tha doll might have tha kidz real afro yo. Human remains, same as bones.

 **SAM n' DEAN together**  
Da Mausoleum!  
  
........................  
  
DEAN races tha Impala toward tha graveyard, rollin all up in tha locked gates. 

Back all up in tha doggy den tha wind rises again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM raises tha poker n' shiznit fo' realz. A heavy cupboard comes across tha room, knockin his ass over n' pinnin his ass on tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SARAH runs ta help, callin his name. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hears a noise n' spins, comin grill ta grill wit tha pimp.

DEAN screeches tha Impala ta a halt n' leaps outta tha car, hustlin tha fuck into tha mausoleum yo. Dude poundz all up in tha glass container, then smashes at it wit tha booty of his wild lil' freakadelic glock but it don't break yo. Dude turns ta run back ta tha car, glock up in hand, then stops n' looks down at dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** (Grimacin up in realization dat his schmoooove ass could blast wit tha gun.) Come on Dean!

DEAN blasts tha glass, liftin his other arm ta protect his wild lil' grill yo. Dude uses tha glock ta knock up tha rest of tha glass until his schmoooove ass can grab tha doll.

Back all up in tha doggy den SARAH is thrown all up in tha air by tha pimp.

DEAN grabs tha doll, reaches fo' his fuckin lighter, it refuses ta light. 

 **DEAN  
** Come on come on!

SARAH pulls her muthafuckin ass along tha floor n' pushes her muthafuckin ass up against tha wall, watchin tha pimp approach while raisin tha razor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM uses all his strength ta push tha cupboard slowly away from his muthafuckin ass. 

DEANz lighta finally catches n' dat schmoooove muthafucka holdz it under tha dollz hair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Well shiiiit, it begins ta smoke n' then ta burn.

Da pimp raises tha razor, preparin ta strike.

 **SAM  
** No!

SAM dives fo' SARAH pullin her outta tha way just as tha pimp be bout ta brang tha razor down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. At tha same moment tha pimp rears back, burnin up fo' realz. As da hoe burns her figure reappears back up in tha painting.

SAM n' SARAH lay on tha floor together, lookin around, then at each other n' shit. 

DEAN looks all up in tha burnt doll on tha floor of tha mausoleum, then pulls up his thugged-out lil' phone. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam lyrics.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, you good?

 **SAM  
** Not bad.

Dude leans back against tha wall next ta SARAH, both lookin exhausted.


	6. ACT FIVE

INTERIOR fo' realz. AUCTION HOUSE.

DEAN approaches where SAM n' SARAH stand watchin tha paintin be crated up. 

 **DEAN  
** (Holdin up some papers) This was archived up in tha county records. Da Merchantz adopted daughta Melanie. Know why dat biiiiatch was up fo' adoption, biatch? 'Cause her real crew was murdered up in they beds.

 **SARAH  
** Bitch capped them?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Who'd suspect her, biatch? Sweet lil girl. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So then she kills Isaiah n' his crew. Da oldschool playa takes tha blame yo. His spiritz been tryin ta warn playas eva since. 

 **WORKER  
** So wherez dis one go?

 **SARAH  
** Take it up back n' burn dat shit.

Everyone stops n' looks at her n' shit. 

 **SARAH  
** I be straight-up muthafuckas. Thanks. (To SAM n' DEAN) So why'd tha hoe do it?

 **SAM  
** Bustin' others, biatch? Bustin' her muthafuckin ass, biatch? Some playas is just born tortured. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! So when they die, they spirits is just as dark.

 **DEAN  
** Maybe. I don't straight-up care. It aint nuthin but over, we move on.

 **SARAH  
** Ahh... I guess dis means you leaving.

DEAN looks from SAM ta SARAH. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM stares at DEAN until he gets dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** I be bout ta go wait up in tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See you Sarah.

DEAN standz awkwardly fo' a second, lookin at Sam, then nodz n' strutts away.

 **DEAN  
** (Grumbling) I be tha one dat burned tha doll, fucked wit tha spirit yo, but don't give props ta me or anything.

 **SARAH  
** There is a mazillion thang I wanna say ta you but fo' tha game of me I can't be thinkin of one.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I be bout ta miss you like a muthafucka.

 **SARAH  
** Yo ass know there be a a lesson up in all of all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Whatz that?

 **SARAH  
** We all gots all up in dis up in one piece. I didn't git hurt.

 **SAM  
** (Laughing) Yeah I be glad fo' all dis bullshit.

 **SARAH  
** So, maybe you not cursed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Maybe.... maybe you gonna come back n' peep mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** I will.

Ouside, DEAN is leanin against tha hoopty yo. Dude watches SARAH lettin SAM up n' closin tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shakin his head, tha pimpin' muthafucka turns ta git tha fuck into tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

Inside, SARAH leans against tha door, thinking, lookin sad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! There be a knock. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch opens tha door n' SAM is there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch smilez n' da perved-out muthafucka steps up in n' kisses her muthafuckin ass.

DEAN hears tha knock n' turns round ta peep SAM lick SARAH. 

 **DEAN  
** (Smiling) Thatz mah boy.

DEAN gets tha fuck into tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam n' Sarah continue humpin' up in tha doorway. 


End file.
